


House of Cards

by cosima_geekmonkey_niehaus



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2120271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosima_geekmonkey_niehaus/pseuds/cosima_geekmonkey_niehaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ace Beth fic, character piece, no real plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House of Cards

Beth sat stiffly on the couch in the living room, trying her best to breathe deeply and evenly. She wanted to suppress her sadness and pain - bottle it up before Paul came home, but she felt herself spiraling out of control. She was having trouble containing the pain, the sadness; she stood up, unsure of what to do. She was losing her grip on herself, on her emotions, and she didn't want to give in. She began pacing back and forth across the room, one hand on her forehead, straining to keep it all inside.

Most days, Beth simply lied to herself, lied about Paul not loving her, lied about her inability to satisfy him, lied about her feelings and desires, or lack thereof. It had gotten to the point where the lies were fooling her, and each time she remembered her reality, the crash downward intensified.

Today had been one of the hardest days so far. She had spent all afternoon talking to Art about an upcoming trip she had planned with Paul, about how happy they would be relaxing together, being in love. But when she had gotten home and was rummaging in her closet for an old pair of sneakers, she found their old letters from when Paul was overseas, reminders of how he never truly loved her, and she had begun to fall apart.

She told herself it was all her fault. Her fault because she couldn’t feel sexual desire for him, couldn’t please him in the ways he wanted; she never surprised him with sex, never reciprocated intimacy, never showed enthusiasm while they were in bed. Beth told herself her failures as a partner were the reasons why Paul didn’t love her.

But the worst part of it all was that he wouldn’t leave her. She would push sometimes, trying to get him to give in and end it, but he would never back down. He always seemed to bottle up his anger and disappointment, suppressing it all and continuing on as if everything was normal, as if their relationship wasn’t a sham.

The pain of not being enough for Paul's love tore her up inside. The pills and the alcohol helped ease the sadness, but the emptiness inside of Beth grew and grew every day. She longed for a relationship full of trust, acceptance, and most of all love, but she couldn’t bring herself to end it because of her fear of being alone, of never being accepted by anyone else. Her own self-hatred made her believe that being with someone who didn’t love the real her was better than being alone.

Beth stopped her pacing, and focused on the pile of letters on the table. She had two options: she could let Paul come home and find her like this, see the pain that he causes her, see the pain that her own feelings cause her, and come to terms with that; or she could put the letters away, wipe away the tears, and pretend like everything was normal.

It was an easy decision, now that the lies were so ingrained in her daily life. She collected up the letters, placed them in their box, and hid them away in the closet along with all her feelings. In the bathroom, she paused for a moment, taking in her defeated reflection, before collecting herself, putting on a determined face, and easing the pain with a single swallow.

By the time Paul came home, there was a fake smile plastered on Beth’s face, and all signs of her struggles were neatly hidden away. She couldn’t bring herself to feign sexual desire, however, and she brushed off his advances, taking note of the coldness in his eyes as he drowned his own pain in whiskey. They spent the evening the same way they spent most every evening, living separately together, each one of them masked in a facade, a house of cards on the brink of tumbling to the ground.


End file.
